


curtain call

by kinpika



Series: signed, sealed, delivered [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Genre: A normal day at magic school, Emotional hormonal teenagers, F/M, Sneaking into locker rooms for confessions, Trying to deny feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 07:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16761121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: “What, ah, what are you doing here? This is the Gryffindor change room.”“Oh, I know. But that’s a relatively minor issue.”





	curtain call

**Author's Note:**

> Seventh year, sometimes. Still trying to work out a relationship (maybe)

There had been enough buildup, over the last few months, for Natasha to simply think ‘screw it’. 

No longer was she going to linger on the awkward questions, the tears, nor how her chest constricted. It was so much easier to forget the limbo she had sat in for far too long, when he was simply standing before her, sweaty and gorgeous.

And he was. Now well into their seventh year, Charlie had definitely begun to fill out in all the ways that had all the girls swoon, and some of the boys, too. Broad shouldered, tapered waist and a brilliant smile, coupled with the sweetest personality — Charlie was what they called the ‘full package’. Natasha knew more than a dozen people back home who too melted under such a gentle smile. It was absolutely baffling that no one else had locked him up yet (she could’ve, sure she could’ve).

Except for that question they found themselves in. The what are we. What could we. What should we. A dangerous cycle of never-ending questions, that stemmed from a rush of hormones over summer, to a frosty goodbye just after Christmas. Until, well, that exact moment, where Natasha threw the doors open to the Gryffindor locker room. This was now, first and foremost, the end of all the unknown.

Blessedly, Charlie was by himself. But this Natasha knew, as he would always arrive to training half an hour early, to fly off by himself before the rest of his team joined him. The previous Slytherin captain had nothing but nasty things to say about such actions, but Natasha just chose to ignore it; if anything, using it inspire her own seeker to try a little harder. 

There was a good ten minutes before the switch over, and she had left the drills in the hands of her second in charge. They would begin their warm down in five, and the rest of Gryffindor had yet to arrive. Good. Perfect. 

Charlie jumped at the noise, head swivelling probably a little too fast to be comfortable. Bandages had made themselves home on his hand, and a nice pile of paste sat stage left. Natasha couldn’t help but notice the lack of shirt, nor the crisscrossing piles of white across his back. Whilst he had waved off his last fall, citing it to be ‘fine’, everyone with half a brain knew it wasn’t. 

And here he was, struggling to put paste on his shoulder, gaping a little too much to be healthy.

A stumble, as Charlie reaches for his shirt. “N-Natasha?” Not like she hadn’t seen it all by now, and Natasha had to stop from rolling her eyes as he goes to pull his shirt on, only to wince and drop it. Resolves to simply hold it in front of him, as if would hide the worst of the bruising. “What, ah, what are you doing here? This is the Gryffindor change room.”

“Oh, I know.” Very well, if the roaring lion on the front had anything to say about it. Striding into the room, doors closing behind her with a solid _click_ , Natasha crosses the room quickly. “But that’s a relatively minor issue.”

“Er, is it?” 

With a nod, Natasha settles for standing in front of Charlie, arms folded over her chest. The more she stared, noting the dulling yellow bruises and shadows of light scratches on his cheek, the more her willpower to confront him over what they were diminished. Far more in favour of tending to everything but the colouring of his cheeks as she continued to stare. 

“Have you even _been_ to Madam Pomfrey? Charlie, you’re a mess!” Definitely overriding her other issues, with how she pulled Charlie’s hands away from himself. 

“I’m fine, seriously!”

Natasha pulls him to his feet then, noticing how there was a slight wobble, and a wince. Surprising that he had lasted so long in his little training session. “That was convincing,” Natasha says, not even trying to hide the sarcasm as she goes to hold his arms, trying to keep him steady. “I’m very convinced.”

Charlie was still blushing, spreading beyond his cheeks now, colouring his ears a lovely pink. For a moment, Natasha remembered the small time frame she had, only to find herself fishing for her wand. “Honestly,” she mumbles, before pointing the tip towards the nice amount of scratches on his shoulder. “ _Episky_.”

Gentle streams of light filter out, as she begins a trail to follow the lighter damage, down his arm, across his chest, up his neck. Despite taking a win for Gryffindor, Charlie had met the ground a little too hard, thanks to a bump from Ravenclaw’s seeker. When they had visited him later, he claimed to be right as rain, but Natasha knew — especially with how Madam Pomfrey seemed to fret over him a little more than usual, even pulling her aside. 

“You don’t have to.”

With a twitch of a smile, Natasha’s wand finds it’s way to his split lip, still cracked and swollen. “Of course I do.” 

Work done sufficiently, it takes a moment for her to drop her wand. To let her eyes move from the once broken skin to meet his own blue. She thinks, _one minute_ , one minute before the Gryffindor team file in, but Charlie’s eyes were warm. Inviting, like the river beside her family home, crystal clear and _warm_. 

Here he was, in front of her, smiling softly and shirtless, and Natasha was struggling to connect all the wires in her brain. This wasn’t part of her plan, to be fair. Not to play at being nurse. No, no, she had planned on storming in, sweeping him off his feet, and then—

“Damn,” Charlie curses softly, as voices start to creep closer. “Come on.”

Guiding her backwards, a little faster than she could keep up, Charlie finds a nice little corner, wonderfully curtained, out of the way. Natasha almost wanted to protest, had it not been for the team rolling in at that exact moment, voices clamouring over each other. Had it not been for the way Charlie presses a finger against his lips, and then against hers.

And he winks, as they shuffle in a little deeper. 

This was going against all her very careful planning, and Natasha remembered, somewhat fondly, the last time she had been pressed so close to him. Just like this — except back then, it had been under the covers, escaping the last few hours before having to return to the real world. 

She was distinctly aware of how her hands were pressed against his chest, feeling the thrum of his heart under her right hand. Natasha could only watch, as Charlie turned his head slightly, trying to see through a sliver of an opening. How he bit his lip, mumbling something she couldn’t quite catch, although she got the gist of it. Telling them to hurry up and leave already. 

It takes a lot, not to move. To not curl her fingers, to keep them straight and splayed. Natasha tries not to watch him so intently, but it was bordering on impossible. Mere centimetres between their faces, and Natasha had already counted the number of freckles on his cheeks, times three. It likely had been mere minutes since they had hurried into the curtain, but she could safely say it was stretching into an eternity.

Especially since she was trying to avoid how they had spent weeks avoiding each other, and now? _Screw it_.

“Charlie,” she whispers, as the voices grew once more. “Look at me.”

Slowly, Charlie turns. Perhaps it was due to her hand, sliding up to find his cheek, to bring them face to face once more. Still perfectly coloured, as he had been before, but this time there was a little less embarrassment. The tiniest amount of uncertainty, flitting in his eyes, but Charlie mouthed an ‘are you sure?’

 _Yes_ , she definitely was. Natasha finds his lips, full and flush, peppering chaste kisses along his skin. Charlie kisses back, perhaps a little too enthusiastically considering their current choice in hiding spot, but his arms are tight around her waist, and everything else drowns out. Everything, except for him.


End file.
